"Oh, I'm so sorry, dear." Margaret touched my arm in a comforting gesture. "I meant Andrew. He's staying with her."
"He is? I had no idea he was in town." I wondered what in the world would call him back home?
"I readied the upstairs for him last week."
"Oh." I was completely lost for words.
"If you don't mind, I really need to be going. I should've been on the road hours ago."
"Oh, yeah. Safe travels. I hope your daughter feels better soon." I waved goodbye and waited until we were down the street a bit before speaking.
"Did you know that, about Andrew?" I asked Nick.
"No. I didn't see him there this morning, but I didn't think to look upstairs."
"Do you think we could just let him take care of things?"
"No, you can't let that good-for-nothing grandson take care of me!" Adele's face popped up right in front of me. I screamed. A couple of tourists walking on the sidewalk in front of me jumped.
"Sorry. Bee." I waved my scream away and hoped they bought my bee explanation. They stared back at me like I was crazy. Probably because the bees were long gone by now. Regardless, it was a look I was getting used to.
Meanwhile Adele kept talking in my ear. "That boy would let me rot on the ground before he even noticed I was dead."
I looked over at Nick, expecting his expression to match my shocked one. Instead, he was smiling.
"Hi, Grandma."
Adele froze.
"Nick? Is that you? Oh my, being dead's not so bad if I get to see my boy again. Of course, I still have to deal with the likes of her." Adele gave me the side-eye. I ignored it and kept on walking. I wasn't about to stand outside and freeze my butt off—not to mention look like a nut who talks to herself and freak more people out—for this afterlife reunion.
"Any customers?" I asked Ellen when I stepped back inside the bakery.
"Oh yes, let me see here. There were ... two."
I blew out a breath and looked over my shoulder at Nick and Adele who were still chatting it up as they followed me inside.
"Nick and Adele are both here," I updated Ellen.
"Is that so? Well, at least Nick is here too," Ellen said with a knowing smile.
Ain't that the truth.
"What are they talking about?" Ellen asked.
I looked over my shoulder to where Nick and Adele were going back and forth in conversation.
"Adele is rather upset," that was an understatement, "that she's lying dead and still undiscovered inside her home."
"How long are you guys going to make me lie there on the floor? Such a disgrace. What if Anita from the Rose Society finds me? How embarrassing. Not to mention, she'd talk it up for months to come. I would hate to be turned into such a spectacle." I rolled my eyes in Ellen's direction so Adele couldn't see me. Then I picked up on what else she was saying. "I don't understand why Claire can't just go over there and find me."
I answered for myself. "I was just trying to stay out of it, that's all. Besides, we weren't the closest of relations." That was definitely putting it politely. "I thought it would be odd, suspicious even, if I just randomly showed up at your house and found you dead."
"Looking out for yourself, are you? You always were a selfish one."
"Excuse me? I most certainly am not. Where would you even get that from?"
"Nick, weren't you the one that always wanted to head out west and see the ocean? The Pacific Northwest, wasn't it? Remember? You were going to graduate high school and hit the road, but no, you had to go and fall in love with Claire, and she convinced you to stay. You never got to explore the world."
Now my eyes were about ready to bulge out of my head. I had been the one that had wanted to get out of northern Michigan, put this sleepy town and the snow behind me, but Nick had been in love with our hometown and convinced me to stay. I decided that as long as I was with him, I didn't care where we lived. Thankfully, Nick recalled it the same way.
"Grandma, you actually have that backward. I convinced Claire to stay. Andrew is the one who's been jet setting since high school, with Aunt Becky catering to his impulses."
Nick was right about that. Nothing was too good for Andrew. Nick and I were both surprised that he had made it as far as he had in med school.
“As for me exploring the world?” Nick continued. “Well, I've done plenty of that in the afterlife, trust me."
"Well, hmm," was all Adele responded with. Then she apparently thought of something else. Her floating head seemed to glow red with excitement. I looked over at Ellen to see if she could see it, but as usual, she was completely oblivious to the spirits that walked in and out of the bakery.
"Next week is Nick's birthday, is it not?"
As soon as Adele said Nick and birthday, I knew where she was going. I closed my eyes and gave an internal groan.
"Yes, yes it is," I said with defeat heavy in my voice. She had remembered.
"And don't you always drop by and visit me about now?"
"Give or take a week." I looked over to Nick, but his boyish grin was no help.
"So there you go. There's your story. Now let's head over there, call the police, and get the festivities underway."
I doubted you could call finding a dead body festive, but I didn't argue that point. Instead I said, "Fine, but if Autumn arrests me, you're both in trouble."
I took a couple of cinnamon rolls out of the case and boxed them, slipping a thick orange ribbon around the box. If I was going on the pretense of paying a social visit, I was going to be thorough—dead hostess or not.
"Good thing I'm dead. I never did like your cinnamon rolls. Now I don't even have to pretend to eat it. I used to feed them to Milo after you left."
"Good to know," I said as I got into my SUV. Milo was her cat. I had completely forgotten about him. I wondered how the poor fella was holding up with his mistress gone.
It's said there are two types of people in this world: dog people and cat people. I was definitely a cat person. In fact, this was the first time in my life I hadn't owned a cat. I was going to have to do something about that. I buckled my seat belt and wondered if Adele was going to talk to me the entire way. Nick took a spot in the backseat and I thought that was a great idea.
"Ride in the back and keep it down, will you? I don't need you getting me killed," I said.
"Well, you don't have to be so rude about it," Adele said with attitude, but she got in the back anyway.
"Better yet, why don't you guys just meet me there?" I said hopefully to Nick.
"Ugh, better not. It takes some work to purposely appear somewhere specific. Who knows where she might end up?"
Like that would be a such a bad thing?
"Claire." Nick said, reading my mind.
"Got it. To London Manor we go."
3
London Manor was farther north up the coast, almost to the top of the peninsula. The house had views of both Bleu Clair Bay and Lake Michigan from its perch on North Shore bluff. The steep climb up the winding gravel driveway always made me nervous, especially in the winter, but thankfully, even though it was cold out, the ground was dry.
Make that was dry.
At that moment, a fine mist settled into the early afternoon air. As the raindrops gathered, I flipped on my windshield wipers and navigated the final turns to the estate. The house was regal, no doubt about that, with its black metal gate, multiple stories, expansive porch, and grand columns. Thankfully, the gate was open. I drove on through.
Nick was back to being an orb and Adele followed suit. I could tell them apart since Nick's had the faintest blue tint while Adele's was red. The colors seemed fitting for their personalities. I wondered what color mine would be?
I went along with the routine and knocked on the door. I thought I would give it a minute or two before calling the police and telling them I was worried about Mrs. London. I had no idea how that was going to go down, but I had Nick's birthday story and I was sticking to it. No one would dare question
a widow visiting her husband's grandma for his birthday. Not even my sister was that suspicious. Or so I hoped.
I sat the box of baked goods on the porch rail and reached in to grab my cell phone when Andrew opened the front door.
I stood there stunned. He was home? Thank heavens I could credit Andrew's unexpected visit to town for my shocked expression.
"Andrew, I had no idea you were in town."
Andrew looked an awful lot like Nick. Same dark hair, aristocratic nose, and green eyes. But everything about Andrew was more polished—from his clipped haircut and fancy pants business suit, right on down to his Italian leather loafers—whereas Nick preferred his beloved Vans and would never be caught dead in a suit. Literally. He was buried in jeans and a Volcom T-shirt.
"I stopped by to see Adele. Is she home?"
"Yes, I believe so. Come on in." Andrew stood back and welcomed me in.
Talk about awkward. Adele was right. Andrew hadn't even noticed she was dead. How awful was that? Adele's orb poked Andrew in the chest. He crossed one arm over his body and rubbed his shoulder.
"Do you by chance know where she's at?" I looked around the impressive entryway and up the wooden staircase.
"She's probably just in the parlor here. It seems to be her favorite room in the house."
Oh, she was in the parlor all right. Even knowing what to expect didn't make walking into the room any easier. I had to force one foot in front of the other. It was awful of me, but I was thankful to have Andrew lead the way.
"Grandma? Adele?" Andrew said once he spotted Adele on the floor. She was wearing tan dress pants and a white silk blouse. Her ivory stockings were still in place and her gray hair was coiled and permed to perfection as always. She was lying on her side with one arm draped above her head, her forehead pressed to it, face down, and the other arm lying flat at her side.
While Andrew ran forward to help, I stayed rooted to the spot. Adele and Nick reappeared in full form. Well, Adele's head again anyway.
It only took Andrew a second to assess Adele and realize that she was long past saving. "She's dead," he said calmly, sitting back on his haunches.
"No crap, kid. Thanks for noticing. To think I said you could stay here," Adele said to Andrew. Of course he couldn't hear her.
"I'll call the police," I offered. No sense calling for an ambulance.
The dispatcher answered the phone after one ring, and I recognized her voice just by her greeting. It was Betty Jones, a friend of my mother's. The two were actively involved in the women's guild at my family's church and always heading up one committee or another. The fact that the church's social activities practically disappeared while my mom was in Florida for the winter was a testament to how much organizing and planning she did for the guild. There was no going back after I told Betty about Adele. I took a quick breath and reported it anyway.
"Hi. Betty. It's Claire London. I am at Adele London's home, and her grandson and I just found her dead in her parlor." I wanted to add, please don't send Autumn, but I thought that would be tacky. And of course, you can't proclaim to have just found Adele London dead in her home without creating a frenzy, even for a trained dispatcher.
"Claire, oh my goodness. Are you certain?"
Oh yeah, I was certain all right. "Yes, it appears that she passed a little bit ago. Her grandson, Andrew? He's a med student and he assessed her." I looked over at Andrew. He was still kneeing beside Adele. He looked confused, or maybe he was going into shock? Nick and Adele were nowhere to be found, and I was perfectly okay with that.
"Well, I just can't believe it. Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry. Let me put a call out and I'll get someone over there right away."
"Thanks, Betty. I appreciate it." I hung up the phone and addressed Andrew. "You doing okay?" My question seemed to snap him out of it. He stood up and tucked his hands into his dress pants pockets.
"Yeah, I'm fine." The words didn't match the scowl that was now on his face. I left his comments at that. I wasn't about to play psychiatrist or pry into his emotions—they were definitely conflicted, to say the least.
I let my attention wander about the room.
Behind Adele, a three-tiered cake stand was on the table next to her white porcelain tea set with its delicate blue floral design. The bottom tier held little sandwiches. If I knew Adele, they were most likely cucumber and dill. The middle rack contained a handful of cherry tarts, not from my bakery I noted, and the top tier held a selection of delicate petit fours. The little square cakes had been dipped in white chocolate with a little pink rose piped on top—also not from my bakery. The spread was fit for a queen, which was exactly how Adele saw herself. It appeared she had been partaking in her afternoon tea when Death came for her.
When the knock came at the door a handful of minutes later, I was waiting for it.
"I got it." Swinging the door open, I was greeted by my sister. Where our mom left her red and unruly hair to run wild, Autumn's was gelled and tied back into a bun. Not a stray hair to be found.
"Claire?" She was surprised to see me, and I was impressed that Betty hadn't told her I was the one who had called it in.
"What are you doing here?" Autumn was already in full deputy mode.
"Social call," I replied, stepping aside for her to enter.
Autumn raised her eyebrows. See, I knew she wouldn't believe that alone.
"It's almost Nick's birthday. I usually stop by and pay Adele a visit. Hers is the same day."
"Oh." Autumn's eyes softened ever so slightly. I suppose that was the one perk to being a widow; no one would question your grief.
"Come on in. She's over here." I led the way.
Andrew was standing off to the side, still in his contemplative scowl, only this time he had his phone out.
Autumn bent down to see Adele, surmising the same as Andrew. She then surveyed the tea spread, walking around the table as if cataloging the entire scene in her head. She stared at each level of the cake stand, the placement of the tea cups, even looking under the table. For my part, I tried to keep my eyes on Autumn and not on Adele's body still on the ground.
"Interesting, very interesting," Autumn said.
"What? What's up?" I asked.
Autumn was silent, pensive.
"Awful lot of sweets," she said after a moment.
Andrew shrugged with his phone to his ear. "She had a sweet tooth."
Autumn looked to me for confirmation. "I suppose, but she wasn't a regular at my bakery."
"Who else was here?" Autumn pointed to the second cup of tea, still full, sitting across the table.
"I have no idea." I hadn't even noticed it. I looked over to Andrew for an explanation. He, however, had gotten through to his caller. "Yes, Dad, that is what I'm telling you. No, I don't know what happened, but she's dead here in the house on the floor." Andrew was silent for a minute. "Yes, Claire. Yes, we called the police. What else should we have done? Yes, they're here now. Okay, fine." Andrew hung up and looked at us expectantly.
"What?" he asked, having missed the question.
"Did you join your grandmother for tea yesterday?"
"No, I was upstairs in the study, completing a review course for my boards next week."
"Boards for?"
"Medical boards, to be a doctor." Andrew said the words as if Autumn was an idiot.
"You came into town to study for your boards?" Autumn asked, knowing full well that Andrew wasn't a resident of our little town.
"Yes. My parents felt that I'd be less distracted if I was home." There was an edge to Andrew's voice. I was betting he hadn't agreed with that assessment but was forced to comply for whatever reason.
"I see," Autumn replied. "And you didn't notice your grandmother had passed before Claire arrived?" Autumn sounded incredulous. I was just happy that it was directed at Andrew and not at me.
"No, I didn't." Andrew was indignant.
Autumn squinted her emerald eyes at him.
"What are you insinuating?"
he asked.
"You don't think it's odd that your grandmother dies, and you don't even notice?"
"I've been ... distracted."
"I see. I'm going to have to ask you to step back out of the room here. This is now an official crime scene."
"A crime scene? But why?" I asked.
"People don't usually just die at tea time. Plus the fact that someone else was here," Autumn pointed at the second teacup, "just makes it all the more suspicious."
"What are you talking about? There's not a scratch on her. I highly doubt someone murdered her," Andrew replied.
"You don't need to touch someone to kill them," Autumn pointed out.
"Wait, you think she was poisoned? That's absolutely absurd. The woman was well into her eighties. She probably just died from a massive heart attack like the rest of her friends."
"Is that your medical expertise talking?" Autumn replied sarcastically.
As if to prove a point, Andrew walked over to the cake stand and popped one of the cherry tarts into his mouth. "You people are absolutely ridiculous. Always looking for drama when there isn't any," he said with his mouth full. "Dad was right. I should've have called him first. This is because it's a slow day at the office, am I right? Want a little media attention for this sleepy little town to perk things up? Get some more visitors to drive up good ol' M-22?"
"What in the world are you talking about? I'm just following police protocol," Autumn said.
"Sure, and like the murder of the heir of the London fortune doesn't make a good headline."
Autumn held up her hands. "Listen, sir, you need to stand down." I took a step back. I wasn't going to be caught in the crossfire when Autumn lost it, and she was so close to it.
Andrew swallowed the rest of the tart down with a smug expression on his face at having gotten to Autumn before it quickly turned sour. "On second thought, that had a really weird aftertaste. My mouth just doesn't feel right." Andrew clutched his stomach. "Oh my gosh, I'm going to die, aren't I? I just finished med school. I'm only twenty-six. What am I going to do? What am I going to do? I don't feel so well. I think I'm going to be sick."
I was shocked, not only that the dessert may have been poisoned but also how quickly it would have worked.
Bittersweet Betrayal: Spirited Sweets Paranormal Cozy Mystery Book 1 Page 2
